


And Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow

by PrincessMidnaofTwilight



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), given its just about the only thing i can write, i love him..........., i wrote this after the second gronder field battle, spoilers for timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMidnaofTwilight/pseuds/PrincessMidnaofTwilight
Summary: This is just a little Dimitri POV of the rain scene after the post-timeskip battle at Gronder because wow that was a moment (Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd I have feelings for you pls DM me). It has most of the in-game dialogue and some additions of my own, because all the gods darn it he needs a hug





	And Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow

"You've suffered enough." 

She and Rodrigue...they'd never stopped hoping, never stopped believing he would find the strength to face everyone lost. The words resounded as though he'd been struck with the flat edge of a blade, as heavy as Rodrigue's blood trickling down the back of his cloak. 

"But who--or what--should I live for?" His voice trembled, still uncertain of this new path. Vengeance had been easy--direct. All he'd wanted was the heads of Edelgard and her conspirators. But, to choose for himself...invited countless possibilities. And there was every possibility his choice might end in disaster--in slaughter--for his friends. Or that his father, stepmother, Glenn...none of them would ever find peace.

"For what you believe in." 

"What I believe in...Rodrigue said the same thing. But is it possible..."

Her eyes met his, unflinching. She knew the worst of the things he'd done; his frenzied rages and relentless pursuit of revenge. And yet...even so, her eyes were clear, devoid of doubt. Her belief in him was unshakeable, so strong it was nearly frightening. What should happen if he were to disappoint that trust? Could he truly live up to it? And that was to say nothing of whether or not he deserved such freedom, when the ones he loved most in the world had no such choice.

"I am a murderous monster. My hands are stained red. Could one such as I truly hope for such a life?" He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "As the sole survivor of that day, do I...Do I have the right to live for myself?"

Her smile was soft, tender in all the ways he'd never known a person could be to another. Implacable and warm, her hand reached out to him once more--just like that first day after five years.

He'd been certain she was just another ghost; another specter screaming for vengeance. But she'd looked so concerned, so confused when he'd recoiled. He'd looked for the telltale shimmer that would betray magic, another enemy spy seeking his head. It was a technique the professor herself had taught him in fact; with the help of Mercedes' abilities. To the contrary the sun had glowed naturally along her skin, darkening with shadow as it sought to reach him. He'd turned away sharply; no one else needed to be stained with the demands of the dead. They were his to bear alone. Or so he'd believed to the core of his being, once upon a time. 

Now, hair darkened by the rain and jade eyes minted silver in the light of the moon, he startled when the brush of her fingertips alighted against his. She was warm and brilliant--like a living flame, chasing away the shadows with every step by his side. As sure as the sunrise, he had only to look up to seek her gentle care, always.

"Your hands are so warm...Have they always been?" He murmured, half-dazed. Their first meeting felt branded in his memory. Quiet and fierce, she had betrayed such a distinct lack of emotion it had chilled him to wariness. And yet, she'd met them all with no lack of consideration. Annette boasted her patience, Mercedes her insight...even Dedue had relaxed in her proximity. 

Now he knew her for what she truly was; a spirit indomitable, like a masterfully tempered blade. She would not shatter, or bend, or dull in the face of a new challenge. Rather, she maneuvered her way on top with flawless compassion. Not only was she stronger than him, she was utterly beautiful...he was no poet, he could think of no words to do her proper justice. All he knew was that she was unlike anyone he'd ever known before, the fondest presence he could ever remember the rare pleasure of having. 

His feelings mirrored that of those five years ago in a secluded tower, the two of them smiling and laughing. Would...would it be possible to stay together forever? Would she ever deign to agree to that? Why did that thought alone bring him so much peace? He'd never--he couldn't think of another person that made him feel quite so...content. Unmistakably whole and equal...undoubtedly seen for who he was; her very existence nothing short of a miracle.

The idea that she might save his life more times than he could count wasn't a surprising one, neither back then and certainly not now. But he never anticipated something like this. Something so deep and raw, it made the idea of accepting life--even for the simple chance to see her one more time, to delight in the soft regard that seeped into her features--worthwhile. 

Lost in those thoughts--of the strange newness of letting himself feel more than shame and anguish--her other hand came to rest on his cheek. Skin cold from the rain, the feel of her hand was like a brand; though it wasn't unpleasant. She traced along the line of the cheekbone right beneath his eye, silent but sweet all the same. He lamented the way his answering blush made it hard to detect the feel of her fingertips again, his lips pursed. 

Just as he was about to take a step back, retreating to an appropriate distance, she leaned up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Chest to chest, she cradled his head, her voice threading through him and mending all the places he didn't know how to reach.

"I believe in you; I believe in what you truly want to achieve. I believe you have every right to that happiness." Her pause was a heavy one, arms squeezing lightly. "I believe Faerghus deserves to know its one true king."

Tears that had threatened to fall the moment Rodrigue collapsed, lifeless, burned to the fore and trailed in hot streaks down his cheeks. He was glad for the rain, though he knew full well she could feel his haggard breaths and shaking shoulders. Weary down to the bone marrow, he sank into her embrace. Could he truly learn to be the hope everyone expected of him? Would the dead ever forgive that kind of selfishness? And yet her gentle hands, stroking at his hair, seemed to know every fear rattling inside him. 

There, in the tumult of the storm, two hearts--ready to reclaim a lost kingdom--shared light and shined bright.


End file.
